Contest of Violence
by Nopride4531
Summary: It's not unusual for Damon, Dean, and Cas to have to fight for their lives. But they never expected what was thrown at them this time... Semi prequel to What Lies Ahead. No slash, but a lot of friendly fluff! Rated T for violence
1. Prologue

**Alright, this is sort of a little prequel to my other story What Lies Ahead. This shows how Damon, Dean, and Cas came to be such good friends, but it is _not_ how they met. Multi-chapter fic and no slash. A lot of friendly fluff to come in later chapters. Set sometime around mid season six. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the Vampire Diaries.**

**Note: Probably not historically accurate, but this is fiction, so who cares? :)**

* * *

Normal for Damon Salvatore is a glass of blood and some smart ass comments. Normal is bugging people, snapping necks, and staking vampires. Normal is constantly losing his family and friends. But the one thing normal is not, is waking up in the middle of freaking nowhere with no recollection of getting there.

Sure, he's had his fair share of blackouts. There have been times where he could barely remember his own name, let alone what he did that day. But he didn't remember drinking anything last night, other than his usual glass of bourbon. As he sat up and looked around, he realized that the area around him consisted of trees, both fallen and upright, bushes and shrubs, and grass. Lots and lots of grass. There was no trace of footprints, drag marks, or anything that would suggest he'd walked out there, or had been taken.

Damon slowly got to his feet, his head spinning for a brief moment before everything stilled. He leaned against a tree and took a couple of deep breaths, his hands clenching at the bark and causing jagged shards of wood to make their way into his skin. Cursing, he pulled out the splinters and immediately began to heal.

_I can't be too far away_, he thought and looked around. _Stefan, Elena, or someone will probably know what happened._

After a brief moment of hesitation, he called out,

"Hello? Stefan? Ric? Elena? Anyone?"

The only thing he heard was his own voice echoing throughout the trees. He shut his eyes and sighed, feeling a little discouraged.

And then…

"Hey! Is anyone else out here? I… I need some help!"

Damon quickly ran in the direction the shout came from at an incredible speed. He soon came to a semi-clearing where a figure in the shape of a man was pinned beneath the base of a large tree. Damon sped up and reached him within a fraction of a second.

"Hang on," he said and put his arms around the fallen log.

After a few minutes, the tree was more or less on the other side of the clearing and the man was getting to his feet.

"Thanks," he said as he turned around. "I owe you… _Damon_?"

The vampire stared back, just as dumbfounded.

"_Dean?_" He asked and felt the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"What the hell are you doing here man?" The hunter asked.

"I don't know. I just woke up a few minutes ago."

"So did I. Me and Cas…"

"Wait, Cas? He's here too?"

"Well, he was when I woke up. Then he just disappeared."

As if on cue, the angel in question appeared out of thin air behind Dean, causing both him and Damon to jump.

"Dean," the angel said and turned to Damon. "Mr. Salvatore."

"Damon," the vampire corrected. "I said that I go by that as a joke, Cas. You weren't supposed to take it literally."

Cas tilted his head and gave his famous questioning stare. Dean rolled his eyes and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

"Damn!" He hissed. "It's crushed. Try yours, Damon."

Damon stopped arguing with Cas long enough to do as Dean asked.

"No signal," he said and shook his head. "Typical T-Mobile."

"I don't think that your cellular devices are going to work here," Cas said.

"No really?" Damon said. "What gave you that brilliant idea?"

"While you were unconscious," the angel said after giving him a glare. "I took the liberty of seeing where we are."

"And…?" Dean pressed.

"We're not…," Cas began, but a sudden bang silenced him mid sentence.

Out of the two people left standing, it was Damon who caught Cas before he could crumple to the ground. He gently put him on the ground and examined the wound on his side. Blood was pouring out of it and from what Damon could tell, it was a gunshot. Swallowing the panic that threatened to control his body, he put his hands over it in an attempt to stanch the bleeding. He looked up at Dean, who was staring at the left side of the clearing. Damon brought his gaze there as well and nearly gasped.

A young girl dressed in a light blue Victorian dress was there, holding what seemed to be a rifle in her hands. She cautiously took a few steps forward, gun still raised and ready. She appeared to be about fourteen years old with light brown hair that swung passed her shoulders. Startled, wide hazel eyes met theirs as she came even closer.

"You threw that tree!" She said, pointing the gun accusingly at Damon. "I saw you! And he just appeared out of nowhere!"

"What are you doing out here, little girl?" Dean asked, regaining his composure as the anger set in.

"He… He _lifted_ that tree," the girl stammered and Damon could hear the sobs wracking her voice. "He…he…"

Damon carefully took his hands away form the wound and looked at it. No healing had occurred and the skin around it was now a sickly red color. Damon quickly looked up at Cas's face to see that his eyes were half open and half closed. He was a deathly shade of white and Damon knew that unless they got help soon, he wasn't going to make it.

"Cas, come on. Can't you heal yourself?" Damon asked and the angle began to cough.

"Something's… wrong," he gasped and looked up. "Cut off… from Heaven…"

"Christ," Damon said. "Dean…"

The hunter was too busy to listen to him. He kept all his attention focused on the little girl.

"Why do you have that gun?" He asked, putting his hands up and the girl's expression gained more fear.

"Please!" She exclaimed. "Don't tell my papa! I heard a noise out here and I wanted to see what it was, so I took it. Don't tell my papa! He'll be so angry with me!"

"We won't tell your papa," Damon said as he fully addressed her for the first time. "As long as you take us to town so we can get our friend some help."

"The nearest town in three days away," the girl said as she finally lowered the gun. "I can take you to my home. My papa can help."

"Okay," Damon said as he picked Cas up. "Lead the way."

The four of them quickly ran through the forest, the girl in front and Damon, Dean and Cas following close behind. They soon came to a large field that looked like it had strawberries planted in it. The girl seemed to not care as they trampled it on their way to the huge house that loomed ahead.

"Papa! Papa!" She screamed as she burst into the house with the three men on her heels.

"Alice?" A man with a cleanly shaven face asked as he stood from his chair. "What is it?"

"This man is hurt!" Alice said. "He was shot!"

"Put him on the table," the man ordered. "Alice, go grab my kit."

"But papa!"

"Alice! Must I tell you again?"

Damon did as the man asked and set Cas down. Alice's father ripped open the angel's shirt and began to examine the wound.

"What the devil are you people wearing?" He asked, a look of confusion on his face.

"We're… Not from here," Dean said.

"I can tell that much. You from the North?"

"What?" Damon asked.

"The North. Which is it? Boston? New York?"

"Mystic Falls," Damon said. "Virginia."

"Son, you think I was born yesterday? We're _in_ Virginia and there ain't no place called Mystic Falls here."

Damon looked to Dean and raised his eyebrows.

"What's the date?" Dean asked slowly.

"June 8, 1777," the man replied and found a suture in the kit Alice had just given him.

"1777," Dean said, a stunned look on his face and he turned to Damon. "Son of a bitch!"

"Christ alive!" The man exclaimed. "You're lucky you got him here when you did. How did this happen?"

Alice paled and shot Dean and Damon a frightened look.

"Hunting accident," Damon said. "We were tracking a deer and I misjudged Cas's position."

"His name is Cas?" The man asked as he pulled the bullet out, earning a groan from the angel on the table. "Odd."

"Yeah, he is pretty odd," Dean said and his tone suddenly became worried. "Will he be okay?"

"I'm not sure," the man said. "I think I got all the fragments out, but we'll see what happens if he wakes up."

"If?" Damon said. "What do you mean 'if'?"

"When I said 'fragments,' I didn't mean bullet fragments. The musket ball cracked and splintered one of his ribs. It's possible that he may have a punctured lung."

Dean shut his eyes and turned away, walking out the front door. The man looked after him as he patched up the wound.

"Are they close?" He asked and Damon raised his head.

"Yeah," he said with a small smile. "We all are."

"Family?"

"…You could say that."

The man finished stitching the wound and wiped his hands on a towel. Damon turned and saw Alice peering at him curiously, as if to say 'I haven't forgotten what you did.' He smiled at her and she ducked her head and ran up the stairs to her left. Her dad watched her and sighed slightly.

"I think she fancies you," he said and Damon raised his eyebrows.

"Funny," he said. "Anyway, thanks… for helping him."

"Don't thank me yet. Not until we know for sure that he'll be alright."

Damon nodded and tilted his head slightly.

"You look kinda familiar and I don't think I got your name," he said and extended his hand. "But I'm Damon. Damon Salvatore."

The man shook his outstretched hand and smiled, revealing false teeth.

"Washington. George Washington."

* * *

**So what's going to happen to Cas? Read the next chapter and find out! Will post later on this week. Promise. I hope you liked it! Reviews are very welcome :) **

**-Nopride**


	2. 1777 Part One

**I now have a structure as to how this story will play out. Each time period will be divided into five or six chapters, possibly more or less, depending on what I find suitable. The time periods will be in no specific order and we'll find out why soon. Enjoy!**

**Dark-Supernatural-Angel: Thanks for the review! They really help me. We'll find out in the next couple chapters why Damon can't (or won't want to) compel the little girl :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the Vampire Diaries.**

* * *

_Previously on Contest of Violence:_

"_Don't thank me yet. Not until we know for sure that he'll be alright."_

_Damon nodded and tilted his head slightly._

"_You look kinda familiar and I don't think I got your name," he said and extended his hand. "But I'm Damon. Damon Salvatore."_

_The man shook his outstretched hand and smiled, revealing false teeth._

"_Washington. George Washington."_

* * *

Now

The setting sun and dropping temperature brought Dean back inside the house a couple of hours later. A quick glance around the living room showed him that Cas had been moved from the kitchen table to the couch. Damon had explained that the guest room was occupied by a friend who had caught small pox and was barely making a recovery. As he leaned against the wall and tiredly rubbed his forehead, he felt someone's eyes on him. Turning slightly, he caught sight of the young girl, Alice, who was watching him intently. Upon seeing his gaze meet hers, she blushed and quickly looked down, causing the somewhat bitter hunter to smile.

This nice, serene moment was interrupted when the air stirred around him. Dean whirled around to see Damon standing next to him, an unreadable expression on his face. The hunter rolled his eyes at his friend and led him into the kitchen. Alice watched all this from her hiding place behind the staircase railing.

"Are you insane?" Dean hissed once they were more or less out of earshot. "She already saw you lift a freaking _tree_. Can't you at least _pretend_ to be human?"

"I have too much self esteem to try to be something I'm not," Damon said, a mocking smirk now on his face. It soon disappeared as a more serious thought came to his mind. "We need to talk."

"About what? The fact that Cas may never wake up or that we just went back in time two hundred and thirty-five years?"

"Did you _not_ recognize Alice's father?" Damon looked around, as if to make sure he wasn't there.

"No. I don't see why he's important right now."

"Dude! That's _George Washington_."

Dean paled a little and his eyes widened as he took a step back. George. Washington. They were in the house of the famous Continental Army leader. Great.

"Why is he here?" He asked. "Shouldn't he be, you know, fighting a war?"

"I don't know," Damon said and shook his head. "But we're lucky he is. If we hadn't gotten Cas help…"

He was cut off mid-sentence as the General himself walked into the room. Damon immediately straightened and found his hand twitching to perform a salute. He restrained it at the last minute and offered a nod of his head as a replacement. Washington returned the gesture and looked at Dean. The hunter merely stared back until Damon kicked his foot. Washington noted this action with a look of slight confusion on his face, but quickly jumped to his question.

"Where did you say you were from again?"

"Uh," Dean stammered and Damon cut in.

"Boston," he said smoothly. "I don't know what I was saying when I told you Virginia."

"Have you any family?"

After a brief moment of silence that disguised itself as hesitation, the vampire said,

"We're brothers."

Washington nodded his head with understanding. Turning to Dean, he held out his hand.

"I don't believe we've been properly introduced. George Washington."

"Dean Win-… Salvatore," Dean said as he shook his hand.

As Washington and Dean began to chat, Damon walked into the living room and sat on the floor in front of the couch Cas was lying on. He stretched his feet out and leaned his head against the leg of the sofa. Relaxing felt incredibly good after a day of panic, confusion, and pain. He shut his eyes and tried to let the sounds around him, be it Cas's labored breathing or Dean and Washington's voices, fade into the distance. Finally, sleep grasped his mind and he was pulled away from everything.

* * *

"Hello Mr. Salvatore."

Damon's eyes snapped open and he jumped up. A quick glance around him revealed that he was in a grassy field that was surrounded by fog. He stared down at his clothes and saw that they were no longer his usual black jacket, tight t-shirt, and jeans. Instead, he wore beige trousers and a crisp white shirt. His shoes were not the Converse he'd been wearing, but were an odd looking loafer. He looked up to ask, to demand, where he was and stopped dead.

He knew who it was. Of course he did.

"Raphael I presume," he said, fixing a glare on the arch-angel.

Raphael smiled and moved slightly closer to the vampire, who took a step back. Upon seeing this, the arch-angel held his hands up.

"I'm not here to hurt you," he said. "You're dreaming."

"I'm sure you can do as much damage in a dream as you can in real life," Damon hissed, and his posture took on a defensive stance.

"Yes, you're right. But I'm not going to. That would ruin my little game."

"Game? Is that what this whole time travel thing is? A freaking _game_?"

Raphael turned away from the vampire and clasped his (or her) hands behind his back. He'd been waiting for his chance to strike at Castiel's forces and what better time than when their general was gone? All he'd had to do was find some way to get the younger angel out of his path. It was then that Crowley had come to him with a spell that not only would cut him off from Heaven, but it would keep him wherever Raphael wanted. Of course, Dean Winchester and Damon Salvatore getting sucked into the plan wasn't part of it originally, but both of them _were_ a nuisance to him and it turned out to be icing on the cake.

"So why don't you just kill us?" Damon demanded. "I mean, it seems like it would be a hell of a lot easier."

Raphael faced him and smirked.

"Now where's the fun in that?" He asked and Damon snorted.

"I didn't think you knew what 'fun' is."

Raphael clenched his teeth and shut his eyes, counting to ten before he trusted himself to speak without ripping the vampire's head off.

"This is how it's going to work," he said and Damon narrowed his eyes. "You three are going to be sent to different time periods, where you'll have a task to complete. If you complete each one successfully, you'll move forward in time. If you fail, you'll move back."

"How Gabriel of you," Damon interrupted and found himself being slammed into the ground with the archangel's hand on his throat.

"Do _not_ compare me to _that_," he spat and straightened.

"What are the rules?" Damon asked as he coughed slightly and rubbed his neck.

"The only one you should be concerned about is completing the tasks."

"How will we know what they are?"

Raphael smiled and raised his eyebrows.

"Oh you'll know," he said. "You'll most definitely know."

After a quick wave, the archangel was gone and everything went black.

* * *

**Right, I know that this chapter is a little short, but that's because it's one of those 'explain what's going on' chapters. We'll get more interaction as this all progresses. Please review so I can know how I did!**

**Nopride **


	3. 1777 Part Two

**Hello and welcome back to Contest of Violence with your host, Nopride! Thank you all so much for the reviews. Here's another chapter; hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the Vampire Diaries and I did not write the lyrics in song listed below. **

**Dark-Supernatural-Angel : Alice will play a _very_ important roll. You'll just have to wait and see ;)**

**Elvalove: Thank you! Damon and Dean are pretty awesome.**

**Nay09: I love these characters as well! Thanks for the review :) **

**Song used/quoted: Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana **

* * *

_Previously on Contest of Violence…_

"_This is how it's going to work," he said and Damon narrowed his eyes. "You three are going to be sent to different time periods, where you'll have a task to complete. If you complete each one successfully, you'll move forward in time. If you fail, you'll move back."_

"_How Gabriel of you," Damon interrupted and found himself being slammed into the ground with the archangel's hand on his throat. _

"_Do not compare me to that," he spat and straightened._

"_What are the rules?" Damon asked as he coughed slightly and rubbed his neck. _

"_The only one you should be concerned about is completing the tasks."_

"_How will we know what they are?" _

_Raphael smiled and raised his eyebrows._

"_Oh you'll know," he said. "You'll most definitely know."_

_After a quick wave, the archangel was gone and everything went black._

* * *

**Now**

Damon awoke with a start and immediately sat up and looked around. He was sitting on what seemed to be a feed bag filled with straw. Groaning, he stood, only to have his head hit a low wooden beam. The floor beneath his feet was creaky and through the cracks in the light birch wood, he could see a row of horses, whinnying softly to each other. He smiled slightly and noticed the fairly large burlap sack that was leaning against the wall. He undid the tan leather strap that held it closed and peered in at the contents. He pulled out a slightly wrinkled white shirt and brown trouser pants. Beneath these clothing items was a pair of black boots with dark brown laces. Attached to the bag was a note scrawled in impressive penmanship, one that Damon hadn't seen anything like since 1864.

_Thought that you might need these. _

_-G. Washington_

Damon quickly put on the clothes, noting with a hint of surprise how comfortable they were. He then climbed down the flimsy wooden ladder and on to the floor. He opened the large doors and immediately covered his eyes. The sun was shining brightly and was just barely over the tree line, showing that it was somewhere around eight in the morning. Damon shut the doors and began the trek to the main house. When he reached the porch, a loud moan immediately caught his attention. He whirled around and noticed a man in a dirty blue uniform who had his arm draped over his side. Blood was dripping from a wound in his skull and one of his eyes was covered with a white bandage. Damon looked to the right and saw another man with the same clothes on and a bandage wrapped around his whole head.

"Lord, help me," the soldier whispered and coughed. "I'm sorry."

Damon turned away and walked into the house where he saw more soldiers lining the entryway and living room. All were in pretty grisly condition and each wore the same expression of defeat. A hand gently touched his arm and Damon jumped a mile in the air. He looked down and saw Alice staring up at him with wide hazel eyes. She immediately withdrew her hand and looked at her feet.

"Forgive me, sir," she said. "But my father wishes to speak with you."

"Thanks, Alice," Damon said. "And call me Damon."

"Yes s- Damon. Follow me."

Damon followed the girl down a narrow hallway and into the kitchen area. Washington was examining a wounded soldier on the dining table and Dean was standing next to him, dressed in a blue Continental Army jacket. Both men looked up when the two entered the room.

"Father," Alice said and then addressed Damon in a softer voice, "I haven't forgotten what you did. We shall speak about that once you are free."

Damon shook his head and watched her leave the room, feeling as though there was something oddly familiar about her. Then Dean cleared his throat loudly and the vampire looked back to them.

"I see that the clothes fit you," Washington said with a smile. "They were my son's. We couldn't have you walking around like a crazy man."

"What the hell happened?" Damon asked.

"War," Washington said simply and went back to stitching what looked like a stab wound on the unconscious soldier's side.

"It's not an uncommon sight," a voice said and Damon turned around.

"Cas!" He exclaimed, but then regained his composure. "Good to see you up and around."

The angel was still a little pale, but nothing compared to what he'd been yesterday. He was able to stand upright perfectly fine and walking didn't appear to be too difficult. His face showed minimal traces of pain and the mask that usually hid what was behind those blue eyes was back in place.

"Well he shouldn't be," Washington said as he walked over. "You should be too weak to open your eyes, let alone walk."

"He's always been a fast healer," Dean said quickly. "Ever since we were kids."

"Show me your wounds," Washington said as if he hadn't heard a word the hunter had stated.

Cas lifted his shirt, which was like Damon and Dean's, and revealed what was left of the gunshot. All that remained were small black and blue bruises that didn't appear to be too painful. Washington looked at this with wide eyes and quickly turned around to face Damon.

"What kind of trickery is this?" He demanded. "He looks like he was merely hit with a stone, yet he was on the brink of death yesterday!"

"We can explain everything," Dean said.

"You'd better start right now!" The General hissed and pointed an accusing finger at Cas. "_That_ is not normal. That is not _human_. What the hell are you people?"

His voice had been steadily rising and soldiers were turning their heads to see what had upset their leader so greatly. Dean cast a nervous glance around the room and caught Damon's eyes. He nodded and the vampire stepped in front of Washington, no malice in his eyes, but regret shining through them.

"Look buddy," he said, ignoring the man's confused stare due to his word choice. "I did _not_ want it to boil down to this, but since you've given me no choice…"

He looked directly into Washington's eyes and spoke carefully.

"You will not find anything we do to be strange. Even though we do pretty incredible things, we are _human_. Understand?"

Washington blinked and nodded slowly, as if he was coming out of a long trance. He turned to Cas and smiled with warmth.

"I am glad you are feeling better, my friend," he said and Damon smirked. "You've made a remarkable recovery."

The general of the Continental Army then addressed all the time travelers.

"Would you all be so kind as to assist me in aiding the wounded? There seems to be many."

"No problem," Dean said and Cas nodded.

Washington thanked them with a nod and stoutly walked out of the room. Dean quickly made his way over to Damon and was followed by Cas.

"Dude!" The hunter hissed. "Way to compel George freaking Washington!"

"Like I had a choice," Damon snapped. "God damn, you'd think I compelled the Pope!"

"Let's not argue anymore," Cas said, irritably. "Mr. Washington said that the wounded need our assistance. I suggest we give it to them."

The three decided to split the work; Dean took the soldiers in the kitchen, Cas those in the living room, and Damon the ones in the entryway and front porch. Alice was there, giving water to the soldiers that were lucid enough to drink it. Her soft, hazel eyes seemed to bring instant comfort to many of the wounded and Damon smiled. She raised her gaze and caught his, blushing a deep scarlet. It quickly disappeared as her orderliness was regained and she pushed her brown hair out of her face.

"You lifted that tree," she said as she knelt down next to an unconscious soldier.

"You shot my friend," Damon said and knelt beside her.

"How did you do it?"

"Would you believe me if I said it was an adrenaline rush?"

"What in God's name is _that_?"

"Nothing, forget it."

"Well then, how?"

She looked over at him, setting the water pitcher down and giving him her full attention. Damon contemplated compelling her, but in the end, he couldn't bring himself. This was a child, who even though only fourteen, was caring for people who'd seen the horrors of war. She was witnessing terrible sights that even made Damon a little sick to his stomach. The worst part was, she took it like it was another day at the office. So with a sigh, Damon decided to tell the truth.

"We're not from here," he began and Alice nodded.

"I can see that. So where then? Europe?"

"A strange land," Damon said, using his best story telling voice. "One with things that go bump in the night."

"What does that mean?"

"Supernatural things."

"Like ghosts?"

"Yeah, like ghosts. We've also got people that can turn into a wolf, humans that come back from the dead and eat others, and… vampires."

Alice frowned as she changed the unconscious soldier's bandages.

"Sounds like a God forsaken place," she said and shook her head.

"Well, not quite," Damon said with a chuckle. "We've got angels too."

Alice looked up at him with wide eyes. Damon smiled a little and lowered his voice.

"And even if you think they aren't," he said. "They're always watching over you."

"The man that I shot," Alice said and swallowed the sudden bile in her throat. "Is he… an angel?"

Damon nodded and her face took on an expression of fear.

"Don't worry," he said soothingly. "He's all forgiveness."

"What's his name?"

"Castiel, the Angel of Thursday. We just call him Cas."

"And he's…"

The sudden noise that sounded like pounding drums stopped Alice mid-question. Damon stood and pulled her to her feet, looking out the door as he did so. Way off in the distance, he could just barely make out horses and men wearing red uniforms. His eyes widened and he quickly pushed Alice behind him.

"Go to your father and get the hell out of here!" He hissed and she stared up at him.

"Why?" She cried, struggling to break free of his hold on her arm.

"The Dragoons are here!" He said and at her blank stare added, "The British cavalry!"

Alice understood immediately and ran down the hall to wherever her father was.

_Cas!_ Damon prayed/thought. _Grab Dean and get to the front door now! We've got some serious crap to deal with_.

Not two seconds later, the angel and the hunter appeared next to him.

"What's up?" Dean asked and followed Damon's stare, catching sight of the Dragoons. "Son of a bitch!"

"Did Alice leave with her father?" Damon asked and Cas nodded.

"I don't detect them inside the house," he said. "They appear to be near the barn. They'll ride into the woods. Mr. Washington has another safe haven."

"Good," Damon said. "We can't have the…"

"_HALT_!" A voice with a strong British accent yelled and the trio looked up.

The leader of the Dragoons dismounted his horse and walked up the porch, taking note of all the wounded rebels. He then noticed the three men standing in the doorway.

"Hello hello," he greeted and Damon muttered to Dean,

"How low."

The hunter chuckled and this caused the Dragoon leader to narrow his eyes.

"Fire the house and barns," he commanded his troops and then turned to Damon, Dean and Cas with a smile. "Traitors have horrible things happen to them."

"That is an unlawful military order and your troops do not have to follow it," Dean said, voice filled with anger and Damon kicked his foot.

"Shut up!" He hissed. "Look at the way you're dressed!"

"Ah, so you're my rebel?" The Dragoon leader said. "Take this one, he is a spy."

"Whoa whoa whoa," Damon said. "Look at the markings on his jacket. He's a mail carrier. You can't hold him as a spy."

"We can and we will."

Two soldiers walked over and tied Dean's hands behind his back.

"Compel!" He whispered sharply as he was led to the Colonel. Damon nodded.

"You will let him go _now_," he said, but the leader of the Dragoons merely smiled.

"You can try to stop me," he said. "Or…"

One of the British soldiers handed him a torch.

"You can save all your wounded inside that house. Which will it be?"

The Dragoon leader threw the torch through one of the windows and the house immediately caught fire. He smirked and turned on his heel. Dean caught Damon's eyes and mouthed 'people' as he was being led away.

"Come on Cas," Damon muttered. "Help me with the wounded."

"But Dean," the angel said, staring after the Dragoons with hatred bright in his eyes.

"I know and we'll get him back. But these people don't deserve to die."

Twenty minutes saw all the soldiers out of the house and on the front lawn. Damon and Cas looked out to the tree line, but the Dragoons and Dean were already gone.

* * *

**Cliffhanger! I borrowed a couple of concepts from the Patriot because it is one awesome movie. Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter :)**

**Nopride**


	4. 1777 Part Three

**Hello again and welcome back! Thank you all for the reviews :) This chapter is more of an informatory one, but action will be in the next part. Sorry if this is short, but I hope you like it!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the Vampire Diaries.**

**Dark-Supernatural-Angel: Thanks for the review! Damon can be pretty good with kids… well in my imagination anyways lol. I don't know if he'd really do that. But then again, Alice isn't exactly a normal kid… **

**Elvalove: Thank you *bows*. Damon, Dean, and Cas are pretty great together. That's why they're the stars!**

* * *

_Previously on Contest of Violence…_

"_You can try to stop me," he said. "Or…"_

_One of the British soldiers handed him a torch._

"_You can save all your wounded inside that house. Which will it be?"_

_The Dragoon leader threw the torch through one of the windows and the house immediately caught fire. He smirked and turned on his heel. Dean caught Damon's eyes and mouthed 'people' as he was being led away._

"_Come on Cas," Damon muttered. "Help me with the wounded."_

"_But Dean," the angel said, staring after the Dragoons with hatred bright in his eyes._

"_I know and we'll get him back. But these people don't deserve to die." _

_Twenty minutes saw all the soldiers out of the house and on the front lawn. Damon and Cas looked out to the tree line, but the Dragoons and Dean were already gone._

* * *

Now

Dean allowed himself to be led through the forest on a narrow trail, twisting and pulling at the ropes that bound his wrists to one of the wagons. Two soldiers walked along side of him, each holding muskets with bayonets. Both wore powdered wigs and all Dean wanted to do was set fire to them. Instead, he marched in line and struggled to keep his comments to himself. He looked around for the Dragoons, only to find that they'd left some time ago.

_Dear Castiel,_ he thought. _Cas, if you could pop in here and get me out of this mess, it would be fantastic!_

The only things that greeted his listening ears were that of the wagon wheels turning and the soldiers' marching.

There was no sound of flapping wings.

* * *

"Let me go get him," Cas demanded as Damon rummaged through the many trunks he'd pulled out of the house that was now burnt to the ground.

Damon sighed and said no for what seemed like the billionth time that minute. He'd already explained to Cas that those soldiers were locked and loaded and could shoot or stab him before he could even rescue Dean. Not to mention, they would have more people besides Alice wondering how he'd appeared out of thin air. Damon had decided that they didn't need any more of that crap and he was already forming his own rescue plan in his mind.

"They are going to kill him!" The angel argued.

"Not yet," Damon said and pulled a tomahawk out of one of the trunks. "Now stop complaining! You sound like a baby."

Cas glared at him for a moment before turning his head and looking the other way. Damon looked up briefly and almost laughed, despite the circumstances. Even though Cas wasn't supposed to have emotions (or a sense of humor), he could still be pretty funny. He carefully set the tomahawk down on the grass and looked around at the smoking fields. He and Cas had told the soldiers that could walk to get the other wounded ones to the barn, which was the only building the Dragoons hadn't burned. They'd been about to, but then Dean and his stupid comment had distracted them and they'd let it be.

Damon stood, knees groaning with exhaustion and nearly buckling. He took a few wobbly steps before he felt well enough to go on without collapsing. The sun was setting in the distance and he had never felt more stupid. He'd let the Dragoons take his best friend and burn down George Washington's house.

"I wonder how they're going to explain _this_ in the history books," he muttered aloud and Cas looked over at him.

"They'll tell the truth," he said.

"Yeah. A vampire, angel, and a hunter of supernatural things got sent back in time by another angel and pissed off the Dragoons, causing them to burn Washington's house."

Cas tilted his head at Damon and narrowed his eyes in confusion. The vampire caught his gaze and cursed himself.

"What do you mean 'sent here by another angel?'" Cas asked, taking a few steps toward him. "You know who did this?"

"Yeah uhh…" Damon coughed and rubbed his neck. "You're not going to like this. Actually, you're _really_ not going to like this. But, Raphael sent us back in time to get rid of you. He didn't want to kill you because he wants us to play a game. He's going to put us through different time periods and give us a task. If we complete it, we'll move forward in time. If we don't, we'll move back. We won't know what the tasks are, but there should be clues to help us figure it out."

"And you've known this since…" The angel demanded, glaring daggers at him.

"Er… Yesterday."

"Yesterday?"

The wind suddenly whipped past him and Damon felt himself flying through the air and hitting the ground with a thud. Castiel grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him to his feet, holding him up in the air with one hand.

"When were you going to tell us?"

"This morning! But then the Dragoons came and Dean got taken and get your hands off me, ya douche!"

Cas contemplated Damon's answer for a few seconds and then let him drop to the ground.

"Thank you. Now go see what you can do for the wounded."

Cas glared at him for a moment, but then spun on his heel and headed toward the barn. Damon rolled his eyes and sighed, fixing his collar and returning to the trunks. There was one a few feet away and it was the only one he hadn't looked through yet. As he came closer, he saw that it had a lock and no key hole.

"What can you be hiding?" Damon muttered as he broke the lock with his hand.

He lifted the lid to the trunk and peered inside, eyes widening with shock. It was filled nearly to the brim with weapons. As he pulled them out, Damon noticed stakes, bullets made of both silver and wood, and holy water. The stakes burned him when he pulled them out and he realized that they'd been coated in vervain. He hissed in pain and quickly set them down on the ground. Buried at the bottom of the trunk was a collection of journals, leather bound and filled with parchment paper.

"Well what do you know," Damon said as he picked one up and opened it. "Washington's a hunter."

* * *

_July 4, 1776_

_Declared Independence. Killed a werewolf who tried to eat Mr. Franklin. No civilians harmed._

* * *

Damon raised his eyebrows when he caught sight of the name 'Franklin' and briefly wondered if it was _the_ Benjamin Franklin. Shaking his head, he flipped to the next page.

* * *

_August 18, 1776_

_There was a shape shifter in Boston today. Shot with a musket. One civilian killed. _

* * *

Most of the entries were the same. Some supernatural being was spotted and then it was killed. There were many, few, or no civilians killed. Damon began to throw the journals back in the trunk without much thought. When he threw the first one in, he noticed the sound it made as it hit the bottom. Frowning, he removed the book and knocked on the wood. It made a sound as if it were hollow. He hunted along the bottom of the trunk until his hands moved over a small lump in the wood. He pushed down on it and there was click and the wooden bottom slid to the side, revealing a secret compartment.

Damon's frown deepened as he pulled out the contents. Bullets made out of a shiny looking metal coated the real bottom of the container. He pulled out another journal buried beneath the bullets and opened it.

* * *

_September 14, 1776_

_Encountered odd creatures today. Looked and talked like humans, but appeared out of thin air. Ten or twenty of them were there, each holding a shiny blade. They surrounded another one and stabbed him repeatedly. Light shone from the wounds and when he screamed, it illuminated his mouth and eyes. When it dimmed, the being was lying motionless with what looked like wings made out of ash burned into the floor. All the others disappeared and for some odd reason, left their blades. I burned the body and had most of the blades melted down and cast into bullets. I saved three to use as swords. I haven't the slightest idea what it was I saw, but I'll be ready for it if it happens again._

* * *

Beneath the rest of the bullets and the journal were three angel blades. Damon pulled them out and slowly looked toward the barn…

Where three men holding blades of their own were opening the doors.

* * *

**Another cliffhanger :) Please tune in next week for more Contest of Violence! Hope you liked it.**

**Nopride**


	5. 1777 Part Four

**Hello and welcome back! Sorry that it took me so long to update; I had major writer's block. Anyways, hope you like it!**

**Also, check out my new fic It All Comes Down To… It's going to be a series of one-shots concerning the actions of our favorite characters :) Some will be sad, some will be filled with fluff, and others will be funny. I hope you like that one as well.**

**Disclaimer: See previous chapters**

* * *

Previously on Contest of Violence…

_September 14, 1776_

_Encountered odd creatures today. Looked and talked like humans, but appeared out of thin air. Ten or twenty of them were there, each holding a shiny blade. They surrounded another one and stabbed him repeatedly. Light shone from the wounds and when he screamed, it illuminated his mouth and eyes. When it dimmed, the being was lying motionless with what looked like wings made out of ash burned into the floor. All the others disappeared and for some odd reason, left their blades. I burned the body and had most of the blades melted down and cast into bullets. I saved three to use as swords. I haven't the slightest idea what it was I saw, but I'll be ready for it if it happens again._

…

_Beneath the rest of the bullets and the journal were three angel blades. Damon pulled them out and slowly looked toward the barn…_

_Where three men holding blades of their own were opening the doors._

* * *

Now

_Oh hell no,_ Damon thought as he raced toward the barn at an inhuman speed. _I am NOT gonna go through this again!_

Even though he was running as fast as he could, he couldn't stop the men in modern suits from opening the doors.

"Cas!" He shouted, only a few yards away from the barn. "Major freaking emergency! We've got company!"

He finally reached the doors and wrenched them open, knifing the nearest angel and praying that he wasn't too late. He pulled the blade free and barely watched as his victim collapsed to the floor and screamed, white light emanating from his mouth and eyes.

The other two angels rounded on him but by then, Cas had gotten his act together and threw his own blade, catching another in the neck.

That only left one more. He snarled as Damon and Cas circled him, knives raised and ready.

"Raphael says hello," he said and disappeared.

Which left the fallen angel and the vampire with a huge mess to clean up and a lot of compelling to do.

* * *

"Papa?" Alice asked as she stared into the flames of the campfire they'd managed to get going.

"What?" Washington snapped tiredly, leaning forward and putting his face in his hands.

"We left those men to face the Dragoons."

"Alice, there's nothing we could've done. The British are known for their cavalry almost as much as they're known for their navy."

"…Papa?"

"What?"

"I left our journal in one of the trunks."

* * *

"I told the leader of the wounded where the rest of the army is," Damon said as he sat down next to Cas in front of the charred house. "You're sure that it's the right place?"

Cas gave him a look that clearly stated _If-I-wasn't-positive-I-wouldn't-have-told-you-so-stop-doubting-me-you-prick_. Damon rolled his eyes and leaned against one of the blackened beams.

"We can't leave Dean with those oddly sounding men," the angel said after a moment of silence.

"They're called Dragoons, Cas. And I know. We'll get him out of there somehow…"

Damon stood up abruptly, causing Castiel to look up at him in confusion.

"Can you get us to where Washington and Alice are?" Damon asked and Cas jumped to his feet.

"I should be stable enough to fly us."

"Do you know where they are?"

Again with the look.

"Alright then. Hey-oh, let's go."

* * *

"You assholes do know that the Americans win, right?" Dean said as he leaned his head against the wagon he was tied to.

"And what makes you so sure?" One of the Dragoons said with a sneer.

"Because I'm from the future and it's one of the things we learn in school."

The soldier looked at him for a moment and then smacked him with the butt of his rifle. Dean let out a hiss of pain, before turning his head to the side and ignoring the stinging in his cheek.

_Balthazar_, he thought. _Your vessel's country __sucks!_

"Leave him, Fredrickson," another voice said and Dean instantly recognized that it belonged to the leader. "We need him alive and relatively unharmed."

"Relatively unharmed," Dean mocked. "Yeah, you're doin' a great job of that."

"Quiet, you insignificant little maggot!" The lead Dragoon hissed as he grabbed the hunter's neck. "You are nothing but the scum under my boot and the mud in which the pigs wallow."

"Nice comparison, dude."

The lead Dragoon released him then and turned to leave.

"We'll see what comments you make when Lord Cornwallis ties a rope around your neck tomorrow night."

* * *

**Sorry if this chapter is a little short, but it's leading up to the big bang! Hope you liked it! Reviews are appreciated ;) **

**Nopride**


	6. 1777 Part Five

**Hey there and welcome back! I'm sorry that I haven't updated in a while; this chapter took _forever_ to write. Anyways, this will be the second to last chapter of the 1777 section. Where will our characters go next? We shall see…**

**There will also be a guest appearance by one of the OC's from my other story What Lies Ahead. If you like her in this and you haven't read that, you should check it out :) **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the Vampire Diaries.**

**Song Used/Quoted: The Pedestrian by the Foxboro Hottubs.**

* * *

Previously on Contest of Violence…

"_Leave him, Fredrickson," another voice said and Dean instantly recognized that it belonged to the leader. "We need him alive and relatively unharmed."_

"_Relatively unharmed," Dean mocked. "Yeah, you're doin' a great job of that." _

"_Quiet, you insignificant little maggot!" The lead Dragoon hissed as he grabbed the hunter's neck. "You are nothing but the scum under my boot and the mud in which the pigs wallow."_

"_Nice comparison, dude."_

_The lead Dragoon released him then and turned to leave._

"_We'll see what comments you make when Lord Cornwallis ties a rope around your neck tomorrow night."_

* * *

Now

Alice leaned against the trunk of a tree and slowly turned her head to look up at the night sky. The stars gazed down at her and seemed almost sympathetic. But that was ridiculous; stars have no emotions, much like the supernatural beings that she and her currently sleeping father hunt. Although it's unordinary, _she_ was the one who dragged him into the whole thing. She'd been hunting for years before he caught her.

Oops.

She'd known what Castiel was the second he'd appeared in the clearing that day. Luckily for him, her gun had been out of the angel ammunition. She hadn't expected him to flinch at the regular bullets, let alone collapse to the ground and lose consciousness. It frightened her more than anything she'd ever gone through; what if he'd been a regular man and her eyes had just been playing tricks on her? She could've very well murdered an innocent man. Thankfully, Damon and Dean were there and had taken him to her father. But Alice would always have to live with the guilt of harming someone who'd had no intentions of anything that was remotely close to evil.

The sound of flapping wings startled her out of her thoughts and she jumped to her feet. Damon and Castiel stood a few feet away, the expressions on their faces showing that they were none too pleased. Alice straightened her dress and got rid of her defensive pose.

"What are you doing here?" She demanded. "Where's Dean?"

"The Dragoons got him," Damon said in a flat voice. "And you've got some _serious_ explaining to do."

"What the Devil are you talking about?"

"We found Washington's journal," Cas said. "There's no way he'd be able to keep something like that from his own daughter. Many hunters have tried and all have failed miserably."

"So what gives?" Damon asked. "Why are you a hunter and why didn't you kill us?"

Alice stared at them, hazel eyes shining green in the glow of the fire. She glanced toward Washington, checking to see if he'd woken up. When she saw that he hadn't, she turned her attention back to what was remaining of Team Free Will.

"I don't need a reason to be a misfit," she said. "And I almost did kill you. My gun wasn't filled with the angel bullets, but you got hurt all the same."

"His angelness is kinda broke," Damon said and earned himself a glare from Cas. "So what he can do is pretty limited."

Alice nodded and sat back down. She met Damon's eyes and sighed before gazing back into the fire.

"And you said that Dean was captured by the Dragoons?"

"Yes." Cas said expressionlessly.

"So why did you come here? What did you expect us to do about it?"

"I didn't expect _you_ to do anything," Damon said as he sat down himself. "But Washington can. He can command some of his soldiers to help get Dean back."

Alice snorted, causing Cas to narrow his eyes at her. She raised her eyebrows at that and threw a small stone at him.

"Why do you think he would do that?" She said and Damon smirked.

"Whether he chooses to or not, he's gonna. Com-pul-sion."

Alice looked over at him sighed, knowing that he had her.

Boy did he ever.

* * *

"Watch what you're doin'!" Dean hissed as he was roughly shoved along into a ragged looking fort.

The leader of the Dragoons merely sneered at him and pushed him even harder. Dean struggled against his restraints, desperately trying to break the ropes. Apparently, these soldiers must've been in the navy before becoming cavalry officers because the knots were tight.

He was led to a large, grand wooden building toward the back of the fort. It was heavily guarded with two Redcoats stationed every ten yards or so. He dug his heels into the ground in an attempt of resistance and was promptly smacked in the ribs with a musket.

"How many times do we have to tell you," one of the Dragoons said angrily. "Stop dragging your bloody feet!"

"Make me!" Dean snapped and this time, the musket hit his jaw, driving it nearly to the point of dislocation.

"All halt!" The Lead Dragoon shouted and they came to a stop.

"It is my honor to present to you the great Lord Cornwallis," a man reading from a scroll said in a clipped manner.

Cornwallis made his way down the steps of the building with his arms clasped behind his back. His eyes met Dean's when he reached the bottom and to the hunter's rage, he scoffed.

"So you're the rebel I've been hearing so much about?" The General said as he looked his prisoner up and down.

"And you're the General who's supposed to be brilliant?" Dean asked with mock confusion. "Eesh. No wonder the Americans win."

Cornwallis chuckled and shielded his eyes from the rising sun.

"Perhaps the gallows will silence that treasonous mouth of yours."

* * *

"You know, you're pretty good at keeping secrets," Damon said and Alice's eyes shot open.

"Why do you say that?" She asked, wary of him now.

"Well because you've managed to keep your identity a secret from us all this time," he said and at Alice's confused stare, cut to the chase. "That quote you used '_I don't need a reason to be a misfit_,' is from a modern song. Now there's only one person I know who loves that song _and_ has the ability to time travel. Why didn't you just tell me you were here, Ev?"

Alice stared at him, positive that he was off his rocker and shook her head. Her hands tightened on the dead tree branch she was holding. Although she wasn't sure if he was going to hurt her, she didn't want to take any chances.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, trying to keep her voice from wavering. Damon rolled his eyes and stood.

"Enough games, Ev. Why are you here?"

"I said I don't know what…"

"Just leave her alone, Damon. She's not me."

Damon turned around in time to see a young woman jumping down from a tree. Her ice blue eyes met his as she came toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Well you're a sight for sore eyes," Damon said and lightly pressed his lips to hers.

"I would say the same for you, but I just don't feel like it," Ev said and tossed her wavy blond hair back.

"Who are you?" Alice asked, eyes nearly bugging out of her head. "What are you doing here? And what in God's name are you _wearing_?"

Evelyn glanced down at her bomber jacket and ripped blue jeans and shrugged. She reached her hand over and ruffled Alice's hair.

"Just some stuff that you'll never see again. Now if you'll excuse us, Damon and I need to talk… Alone."

Ev put two fingers to Alice's forehead and the girl collapsed to the floor, unconscious. Smiling softly, Ev turned to Damon and motioned her head at the sleeping Castiel.

"So the little guy's out, huh?" She asked as if everything were normal.

"Yeah and let's keep it that way," Damon said and led her a ways into the forest. "What are you doing here? Did Raphael do this to you?"

"Raphael?" Ev snorted. "Please. Do you honestly think that he would tangle with me? A vampire-angel-human hybrid?"

"You don't have to brag about it."

"To answer your question, I'm here because I heard _you_ were. And before you ask, I can't get you back."

"Why the hell not?"

"That stupid archangel _did_ manage to put some sort of hex on me. I don't know exactly what it is, but when I tried to get you guys back to the modern day, it zapped me into 1955. It's like I can't interfere with anything here."

Damon groaned in annoyance and leaned against a tall, dark tree. Great. Absolutely frigging _perfect_. Not only were they stuck in the past, they had _no freaking way_ of getting back to the future except for doing what Raphael said.

And that meant they had to follow _rules_.

Rules suck.

"Damon? Are you listening to me?"

"Depends," Damon said as he found reality again. "Were you nagging?"

Ev rolled her eyes and smacked the back of his head with her hand. Damon half ducked, half blocked, but laughed all the same.

"I was saying that I know where Dean is," Ev said, the fire in her ice blue eyes blazing. "But you obviously don't seem to care, so I guess I'll leave…"

Damon grabbed her arm, effectively stopping her from leaving. She raised her eyebrows at this, but then squared her shoulders as he released her.

"He's being held in some fort about five miles northeast of here. It's heavily guarded and I'm pretty sure Cornwallis is there too."

"Cornwallis," Damon said incredulously. "As in _the_ Cornwallis? How're we supposed to rescue Dean in a huge bloody battle without killing him and screwing up the timeline?"

"By _avoiding_ a big bloody battle and sneaking in via the secret entrance I found, dumb ass."

"What is it with the Brits and secret crap?" Damon mused and Ev shrugged.

"Beats me." She said. "Ask Cas to transport you guys there. It's located on the east wall beneath the tallest wooden pillar. Get it? Got it? Good."

"But wait. What about Washington and Alice?"

Ev blew air through her teeth and looked up at the lightening sky. Streams of gold were making their way across the black, obliterating the stars that always liked to hide.

"I'll see if I can wipe their memories of you guys and with any luck, all of the Supernatural. If not, then we might find your names in the history books."

Damon grinned and kissed her softly once more. She winked at him and backed away further into the tree line.

"I gotta go," she said. "Before Raphael finds out that I'm here. Adios mi amigo."

Damon watched as she vanished with a look of happiness on his face. It'd been years since he'd seen her. Ever since… well… that would be for another time. He would revisit that in what lay ahead in the future.

* * *

Cas was snoring slightly when he kicked him awake.

"Please remove your foot from my ribs," the gravelly voiced angel said with a touch of irritation in his tone.

"Just had a visit from Ev," Damon said and Cas immediately sat up.

"Her?" He asked. "I thought you weren't on speaking terms."

"So did I. Anyways, she told me where Dean is and how we can get him back without having a big battle."

The angel quickly got to his feet and demanded in a frenzy,

"Where is he?"

"Fort. About five miles northeast."

Before Damon had a chance to say anything more, Cas grabbed his arm and they disappeared.

* * *

**So what did you think of Evelyn? I hope you understand what she is and also what she can do. If you liked her, let me know in the reviews and I might just make her a regular in this fic. If you despised her, you'll never see her face again. Sorry if this was a little boring, but the next chapter will have some awesome fights, a hilarious distraction, and a 'shocking' conclusion :) **

**I already have the next time period planned, but I'm open to requests. Just say what they are and I'll work them in. **

**Thanks!**

**-Nopride**


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